


Nerd

by jhoca



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Sorry, M/M, Studying, except the always-studing oikawa kinda lowkey likes the always-partying kuroo, the always-partying Kuroo falls for the always-studying Oikawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7192100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoca/pseuds/jhoca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The always-partying Kuroo falls for the always-studying Oikawa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nerd

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when I come across a list of college au prompts…a combination of “the always-partying kid falls for the always-studying kid college au” and the “i really hate you but you have the highest grades in class and i need help college au”

A university student in Tokyo, Kuroo was living a carefree life of fun and games and volleyball. He was determined to live his college life fully, jumping into mixers and joining friends to social outings at nearly every opportunity. Kuroo was clinging to his youth with the vitality and excitement of the typical college student. Well, maybe just a little more than average.

Kuroo was a frequent party-goer.

Of course, being Tokyo, house parties were not as common as nightly trips downtown with a group of friends. Houses were too distant and costly for college students in Tokyo, a city of gleaming skyscrapers and night lights, too massive and grand for mere house parties. College kids in Tokyo were night-walkers who went out on the town to have a good time, somehow always passing out in their own apartments and dormitories to wake up with gruesome hangovers the next morning. No one would ever risk causing a loud, drunken ruckus at their own dorms or apartments and get their asses whooped by the landlord. Invitations to dorms and apartments were strictly for hook-ups only.

What a college kid excursion looked like for Kuroo Tetsurou was a casual chat with a couple of other guys from his class, agreeing to meet one another later, when everyone was available. Before sundown, they would usually hang out and crack jokes before hitting the bars and clubs in the darkness. Kuroo would sometimes remember the names of these so-called “friends”  — acquaintances, really — the next morning, but most of the time, those names were lost along with the memory of the night’s activities.

At this point, Kuroo’s body was accustomed to his alcohol intake, making the following morning hangover more bearable. Still, for Kuroo, every morning was usually accompanied by a dull humming headache and a parched throat. Nothing a glass of water and a protein bar couldn’t fix, right?

This was Kuroo’s college life. A day of class, getting by with so-so grades, a night of partying out on the town, and a hungover morning. Put that schedule on repeat, and that would make up Kuroo’s college life in a nutshell.

His dorm roommate, however, wasn’t very fond of Kuroo’s work-hard-play-harder attitude.

Oikawa Tooru. He was this good-looking nerd with a curious obsession for aliens and, oddly enough, he was also a top notch volleyball player. Kuroo didn’t particularly mind him, he was fun to tease and stuff, and in the beginning they had played volleyball together, which was great, but they weren’t exactly the best of friends. As a party animal, Kuroo often came stumbling home drunk at night, and he would find Oikawa sitting at the desk, focused on his studies.

He was a vague blur in Kuroo’s eyes, especially in the darkness of this late hour, but Oikawa seemed so calm and serene in comparison to the vibrant electricity of the bar Kuroo had chugged and guzzled away in with his friends. Oikawa’s back faced him, not turning to look even after hearing their door click, fixated on the computer screen in front of him.

Tempted to disturb the peace, Kuroo hobbled over to his nerdy roommate and casually slung his arm around him. He asked him about whatever nerdy thing he was studying, but as always, Oikawa brushed him off and complained about his breath smelling like alcohol.

“My breath doesn’t stink,” Kuroo would retort in a slurred mumble, leaning in and casually pecking him on the cheek. His vision still blurry from the alcohol, Kuroo smirked at Oikawa’s furrowed eyebrows and the firm line of his lips. “You’re the one who stinks. Ya stink of nerd…stinkin’ up the whole room with yer nerd stink.”

This was followed by an exasperated groan from Oikawa, who rose from the desk and led Kuroo to his bed. He urged him to lie down, nudging and pushing the whiny Kuroo away from himself and pulling the bed sheets for him. “Here, just pass out already.”

“No, I’m not sleepy yet.” Kuroo grumbled, stubbornly keeping his arm slung around Oikawa, who was clearly running out of patience. But Kuroo thought it was too much fun getting on his nerves, though, booping Oikawa on the nose with his finger. “Stop bein’ a grump, ya grumpy grump.”

“Please go to sleep, Tetsu-chan.”

“No.” Kuroo chuckled at the annoyed expression on Oikawa’s face. “I’ll go to sleep if you go to sleep with me.”

Oikawa let out a melodramatic sigh and threw his head up, groaning at the ceiling before looking back at Kuroo with the same frustration in his voice. “I have stuff to take care of.”

Attempting to pull away, Oikawa found himself trapped in Kuroo’s drunk embrace. The guy reeked of alcohol, the strong and musky type that lingered, and Oikawa couldn’t stand it.

Not just the unbearable smell, but the fact that his roommate had become such a sleazy drunkard. He wasn’t always like this. Oikawa missed the Kuroo he had gotten along with in the beginning, before he fell victim to the poison of alcohol and the temptation of parties. Kuroo used to be a really fun guy to hang out with. He was funny, easygoing, and trustworthy. Someone who would have had his back. Someone he could have trusted with his life, even. They got along so well, they called each other by their first names, which had stuck even after they had grown apart.

However, as the year progressed, Kuroo met more and more of these so-called “friends” and social drinking quickly became his new hobby. In the toxic clutches of booze, Kuroo was deep in the whirling, tumbling gamble of alcoholism. He gladly threw away his inhibitions and drowned himself in a liquid that, at certain levels, was poisonous enough to kill him. Now, Kuroo was always missing from their dorm room, and whenever Oikawa did see him, it was always like this. Always intoxicated, always half-awake, always in the middle of the night.

“I like your glasses.” Kuroo commented randomly, tracing the rims of his glasses with a finger.

“Let go of me.”

“No.” Kuroo shook his head against Oikawa’s own, before pressing his nose against the soft curls of chestnut brown hair on his head and taking a huge whiff. Then, with no consideration of personal space, Kuroo leaned in and whispered loudly into his ear, “Tooru, did you know, your hair smells really good.”

“Tetsu-chan,  _ please _ , please go to bed. Go to bed!” Annoyed and upset at their situation, Oikawa sat down on the edge of Kuroo’s bed and pulled him down with him. Desperate, he tried and struggled to push his tipsy roommate into bed. “You’re taking up so much time. I want to go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep,” Kuroo replied as he patted the bed. “Right here, next to me, see?”

“No, no, no, I still have to finish my paper.” The expression on Oikawa’s face was a mixture of emotions, torn and frustrated. Kuroo couldn’t see it clearly with his bleary vision, but he could feel the genuine distress that was coming from him. Something was seriously troubling him. “Why is this so hard for you to understand?”

Kuroo hesitated, feeling a couple of pangs on the sides of his head, and nuzzled against Oikawa again. “But it’s so lonely going to bed all by myself.”

Oikawa fell silent. And then, as if sighing out of defeat, he grumbled and mumbled almost silently, “OK.”

With that, a smile broke onto Kuroo’s face and he gladly fell into bed with a heavy thud, dragging Oikawa down with him. The tiny twin-sized bed could barely fit the two tall athletes. Regardless, Kuroo nestled and got comfortable, burying his face into Oikawa’s curly brown hair.

Still buzzing from intoxication, Kuroo was on fire, burning from head to toe and feeling the toxic heat spread through his body like a wildfire. His head spun, electricity coursing through his veins. Through his blurry vision, he looked down to see the expression on Oikawa’s face, hoping it would help steady him.

The moment Kuroo’s eyes landed on that pretty face, he took in a sharp breath, admiring the sweet caramel swirling in his eyes. Oikawa had always been doe-eyed, his long eyelashes fluttering and kissing the surface of his cheeks. It was always nice to see his face, as if relief washed over him at the sight.

Kuroo was too bleary and lethargic to say anything, but he liked the eye contact, studying the warm honey swimming in Oikawa’s eyes. Magnified by his nerd eyeglasses, there was something deep and profound in them, emotions hiding behind the sweet caramel. They almost looked sorrowful, heavy with a kind of sadness and anguish. Before Kuroo could ask about it, Oikawa averted his eyes when his cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

Dismissing the matter, Kuroo hummed contentedly and found it calming to watch Oikawa’s slender frame rise and fall with every breath. His warmth pressed against him felt comfortably snug. Kuroo almost wished this moment would last forever. He kept his arm around Oikawa, but as drowsiness swept over him, his grip grew loose.

Loving the sweet and cinnamony scent of Oikawa’s soft and curly hair, Kuroo felt his eyelids grow heavy and his consciousness slipping from him.  As his dreamy thoughts collided with reality, Kuroo felt his mind fleeing from his control as it dwelled on his nerdy roommate.

As he waited for slumber, Kuroo watched Oikawa almost affectionately, pampering him with soft gazes. He realized how close they were, hearing Oikawa’s rhythmic heartbeats and feeling the warmth of his body pressed against him. Every detail reeled him in  — those brown eyes dripping with honeyed syrup, those long eyelashes, those soft, pink lips  —  Kuroo found himself leaning in, closer and closer, lifting the pair of eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of Oikawa’s nose, unable to resist temptation, until Kuroo leaned in and gently kissed Oikawa on the lips.

His lips met soft ones. Two pink petals. Of course, it was a bittersweet kiss that lasted no more than a second, but the spur of the moment stretched this fleeting instant. Half-awake, Kuroo relished in that second, savoring the sweet taste of his bewildered roommate as the kiss drowned out all voices of reason.

Just like that, the kiss suddenly ended. Kuroo parted silently. There was a very peculiar atmosphere, bashfully sheepish, a coy and timid silence, that lingered between them. His eyes peacefully closed, Kuroo whispered softly against Oikawa’s lips,  “I love you, Tooru.”

And he was out cold.

The next morning, Kuroo remembered nothing. Life went on as usual.

The usual nausea and headache greeted him, throbbing and pounding. Groggy, Kuroo groaned and threw the covers off his body, climbing out of bed and rubbing aggressively at his grossly hungover mug.  Sunlight peeked through the window and the cool morning air nipped at his skin. Kuroo shuddered, yawning and scratching his head.

Sluggish, he wandered towards the mirror Oikawa hung on his side of their room, investigating the tired face he saw in his reflection. Red eyes, clammy skin, messy bedhead, dark eyebags. Nice.

Kuroo decided a shower would freshen him up, lazily grabbing his towel and gathering his toiletries in his arms. As he went to fetch his phone, he shot a curious glance at Oikawa’s bed, which was empty and barely fixed. Glimpses of Oikawa’s face flashed in the back of his mind. Kuroo vaguely remembered having seen him last night, attempting to dig into his foggy memory, when the realization dawned on him.

Everything in his hands dropped and clattered loudly to the floor.

Despite his best efforts, the images vividly seeped through the cracks. Kuroo saw himself all over again, pressing his lips against Oikawa’s lips and smelling his hair and telling him  — “ _ I love you, Tooru. _ ” Kuroo remembered the softness of his lips, the redness of his cheeks, the shock in his eyes.

With the morning recollections of last night, Kuroo buried his face in his hands, desperately trying to hide from the memories and push them away. He rubbed his temples and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if that would help, furiously shaking his head in disbelief and squeezing his eyes shut.

_ No fucking way. That didn’t happen _ . Kuroo reasoned with himself.  _ Get a hold of yourself, dammit. Fuck. It was a dream! _

When his headache came back packing a punch a hundred times worse than before, Kuroo seethed through his teeth. The throbbing pain made him forget about last night for a moment, pushing the memory to the back of his mind. Instead, he focused on the present, picking up everything he dropped and angrily cursing his hangover.

Turning back to the messy nightstand in search of his phone, Kuroo found a bottle of painkillers with a sticky note on it. Kuroo picked it up and read the distinct handwriting scribbled onto the note.

_ For your hangover _

_ -Oikawa _

A smile crept onto Kuroo’s face. He popped the lid open and threw a couple into his mouth, quickly swallowing them before he could taste the bitterness of the medicine.

Judging by how casual Oikawa dealt with their “kiss” from last night, Kuroo figured he had nothing to worry about. If they had actually kissed, Oikawa didn’t seem very concerned about it. There was no mention of it whatsoever on the note. If it did happen, Kuroo was sure Oikawa would’ve written some snarky remark about the kiss, that it was bad or that it tasted like alcohol or that Kuroo was a terrible kisser. Besides, there was a good chance that it was just a dream. Kuroo was really drunk, after all. It probably never happened.

Neatly putting the bottle back, Kuroo spotted his phone. It lit up with a calendar reminder, and Kuroo had to squint to read it, his headache pounding at the brightness. Realizing what it said, Kuroo’s heart sank.

His midterms were next week.

_ Shit. _

Kuroo had always been the type of person to cram everything in an all-nighter and manage to pass the class nonetheless. His friends always groaned in envy at this ability to pass without dedicating time every day to study the material.

It was fine for his first semester. Kuroo had squeaked by with semi-decent grades. But once second semester rolled in, somehow his non-studying habit brought drastic changes to his grades. Maybe he had landed the mean professors this semester or something. Maybe he had disregarded the number of tests that were assigned every week, maybe he was neglecting the amount of work required to understand the material. Kuroo was so used to casually passing classes, that maybe he had forgotten that university courses were supposed to get more difficult further down the road. His classes were less forgiving of his half-hearted efforts in classwork and projects, hitting hard on his mediocre grades.

Kuroo was usually tough about his academics, not caving in to the pressure or stress that everyone typically fell neck-deep in come midterms or finals week. He didn’t crumble when handed back a test with red scribbled everywhere and a terrible score on the front page. Others would feel their hearts drop. Maybe that was because Kuroo believed he would pass the class in the end. He was confident that a single poor test grade wouldn’t bring him down.

Boy, was he wrong.

Once that single poor test grade became poor test  _ grades _ , Kuroo fell plunging downward. In his discussion classes, sectioned from the hundreds of students in his lectures, sometimes the “friends” he sat with would curiously peek at his scores after a test and look at him with that mildly concerned face, as if to ask out of pity, “aren’t you afraid you won’t pass the class?” or “maybe you should study harder next time?” or “did you even study?” but they wouldn’t actually say anything aloud, instead keeping quiet and turning to someone else to talk and gossip. Kuroo hated that the most. He hated that they had to spy on his grades and look sympathetically at him with dumb questions that they wouldn’t even ask aloud so that Kuroo could just laugh it off and act cool about it.

It was at these times that Kuroo realized how jealous he was of Oikawa, who felt the obligation and need to study. The model student. How he wished he could ask him for help, how he wished he could teach him how to study, how he wished Oikawa could be with him, even just for moral support.

Kuroo was in a dangerous position. His recent scores were near failing, which meant his midterms would play a huge role in his grades. The deciding factor, whether or not he would pass the class, relied on his midterm exam scores. Kuroo was hanging by a thread for nearly all of his classes. And to top it off, all of his exams were in the same week, starting the day after tomorrow. It had been a few days since his last encounter with Oikawa, who he guessed was probably avoiding him to study the hell out of his nerd notes and his nerd books.

If only Kuroo could do the same thing.

Kuroo blew off the social outings he was invited to, casually declining their offers and  giving his party-hardy friends some lousy excuse, that he had a date or something, in hopes of buying time for his studies. Not that he studied during that time, anyway.

In fact, Kuroo wasn’t getting anywhere studying by himself, if it should even be considered studying.  It was more like sighing and sighing, staring at the ceiling, refilling his glass of water over and over again, just because he knew he couldn’t study dehydrated. But Kuroo was very hydrated. Just not motivated to study. He didn’t even know where to start.

Oikawa made studying look so easy  — effortless, even  — his nose always stuck in a book that discussed and argued over the existence of aliens, or as he’d enthusiastically call them, “extraterrestrial life!” Books about the vastness of space, the physical universe beyond the earth’s atmosphere, the formation of planets and stars.  Oikawa was probably the one person he knew who studied so damn hard.

None of his party-hardy friends would be any help. Kuroo knew they wouldn’t care to study, let alone help someone else study. Kuroo knew they were the type of people to be repulsed by the idea of reviewing material over and over again, to  practice math problems or rewrite their notes or create mnemonics to help remember the material . Instead, they were last-minute crammers,  focused on memorizing key words, phrases, and patterns from the neglected textbooks never touched before then. Kuroo understood this because he was exactly the same.

Kuroo knew his only solution, his only remedy, his only actual help was Oikawa. And  as much as Kuroo wouldn’t like to admit it, he needed his help.

And so Kuroo sought out his nerdy roommate with a newfound determination.

First and foremost, Kuroo sent Oikawa a very casual and desperate text asking for his help. Realizing how sudden and random that text must look, he sent another one right after in apology, and then a laughing emoticon.

When he lacked a response in the following fifteen minutes, Kuroo paced their dorm room and sent another text.

**K** **_: Tooru?_ **

With a stroke of luck, Kuroo saw the ellipsis indicating that Oikawa was in the middle of typing a reply and felt his heart beat wildly in his chest. He watched the three dots with great intensity, waiting and waiting, until the ellipsis suddenly disappeared. There was no response.

_ Tooru, what the hell, this is urgent! _

Racing against the clock, he frantically texted a number of people on his contact list about where he could find Oikawa, explaining that it was an emergency and that he couldn’t explain. The first few responses were disappointing, but it was worthwhile hearing from his fangirls who knew his frequent hotspots. Grateful for their devoted loyalty towards Oikawa, Kuroo thanked them and immediately went to each and every one, scrambling all over the place like the desperate maniac he was.

In his excitement, the day was passing in a blur of dire urgency.  Kuroo searched high and low, always restless and antsy, impatiently riding the metro all over the city. Other passengers glazed over him with curiosity before looking away in disinterest. Kuroo paid no mind to the people around him, instead contemplating over which routes to take that would be the fastest, most efficient, and most convenient. He gave his phone multiple glances in hopes of seeing a notification that Oikawa had finally replied to his text, but always sighing with disappointment at his blank home screen.

After darting to the astronomy library, Oikawa’s fourth hotspot, and being unsuccessful, Kuroo bounced right back and jumped onto the metro to his next destination. It jostled with the crowd of passengers like it always did, and again Kuroo looked at his phone. He clenched his teeth.

No response.

The clock was ticking. As the sun began to settle into the ground, orange stained the evening skies, pouring in from behind the clouds.  Downtown in the shopping district, Kuroo arrived at a cafe between boutiques, restaurants, and bookstores. People sat tall and slender in the outdoor seating area, with lattes and smartphones in hand, a few shopping bags by their feet.

This was obviously a place for shopping sprees and friendly chit-chat, Kuroo realized, awkwardly scratching the back of his head and feeling out of place with his backpack and baggy clothes.  Kuroo wiped a clammy hand over his forehead, the soggy perspiration from running around clinging to his black hair and clothes.

Feeling the setting sun against the nape of his neck, Kuroo kind of hoped he wouldn’t find Oikawa there so he wouldn’t have to risk gathering attention to himself. Everyone appeared to be minding their own business, carrying indistinct conversations about their personal lives and telling tale of random gossip.  Kuroo’s heart pounded with excitement as his narrow eyes searched for a tall and slender setter with a troublesome hairstyle, scoping the area.

And then he saw him.

The sight of Oikawa sent his heart pounding wildly in his chest, thrashing against his ribcage.  There he was, in the flesh, alive and breathing. Sometimes Kuroo forgot how good-looking he was. E yes were always fixed on him, following his refined movements. Oikawa shined brightly with his charming looks and his radiant smile,  pulling Kuroo’s eyes everywhere he went. He loved to watch the  chocolate curls on his head bounce with every step.

Something gripped at Kuroo’s heart with an aching ferocity. Everyone and everything around the handsome setter blurred into distorted hazes in the background, their faces obscuring and their voices dulling into a muted hum. Oikawa, in the meantime, seemed to glow against the lackluster humdrum of everyone else around him, his image burning itself into Kuroo’s memory.

Drawn towards his roommate, Kuroo approached him.

“I told you, Iwa-chan, I can’t stand him!” Oikawa exclaimed into his phone, taking the last sip of his soy caramel latte before throwing it out and continuing. “I can’t even study in my own dorm room anymore. I know I told you I’d study there all the time because of him, but things have changed a lot since first semester, okay? I told you about it already! Iwa-chan, do you even listen?”

Kuroo wasn’t paying attention to Oikawa’s conversation with his childhood friend, too absorbed in his determination to talk to him. He marched right up to his roommate and reached out, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop talking midway.

Oikawa scoffed incredulously at this turn of events and turned to look at his rude offender, when he realized who it was and gasped. “Tetsu-chan?”

Baffled and confused, Oikawa looked around before looking back at his stern roommate, who stood ominously beside him with a serious expression on his face. Oikawa seemed flustered to see him, especially after what happened the last time he saw him, but tried to casually laugh it off while attempting to pull his arm away. His phone buzzed with the muffled voice of the person on the other line, wondering what the commotion was about.

Unable to answer his phone call, Oikawa laughed weakly. “Tetsu-chan, what are you doing?”

“I need your help, Tooru. Your nerd help.” Kuroo finally said, feeling Oikawa squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

“What? I’m on the phone, Tetsu-chan, can it wait?”

Kuroo sighed and released him.

“Thank you.” Oikawa pulled away and immediately put the phone to his ear again, apologizing frantically to his childhood friend and whispering something into the phone. He shot Kuroo a couple side glances to make sure he wasn’t listening, before bombarding his childhood friend with a series of affectionate goodbyes and finally hanging up. Once he regained his composure, Oikawa turned back to Kuroo with a skeptical look in his eyes and cleared his throat. “Help with what?”

“I don’t know how to study.” Kuroo said plainly with a straight face. Seeing the expression on Oikawa’s face, Kuroo explained with, “I’m stupid. The alcohol got to my brain.”

“Well, yeah, that much I know.” Oikawa scoffed as he crossed his arms, lowering his voice and mumbling, “More like the alcohol took over your brain.”

Kuroo caught his muttered words, but he didn’t comment on it, instead persisting on the matter at hand. “Will you help me?”

Oikawa hesitated, biting his bottom lip and debating over the request with a troubled look on his face. As intuitive and perceptive as always, Kuroo studied the honey swimming in Oikawa’s eyes, observing the mixture of emotions hiding behind the swirl of caramel. There was definitely something profound in those syrupy brown eyes, something sorrowful, heavy with sadness and longing. Kuroo struggled to understand why Oikawa seemed so distressed whenever he asked him about something, like the other night, when they laid together in bed. Oikawa couldn’t even hold the eye contact with him for very long, always averting his eyes, flustered and red-faced.

“I dunno, Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa started slowly. “What’s in it for me?”

“Um…you’ll help me…out of the kindness of your heart?” Kuroo forced a smile, but Oikawa was unimpressed. Kuroo chuckled and offered, “My eternal gratitude?”

Oikawa looked flatly at him. “I think I’ll pass on that one.”

When he started to move away, Kuroo grabbed his arm again. “Wait, I can do better. Just tell me what you want.”

“Why do you want me to help you study so bad, Tetsu-chan?” Oikawa asked finally. “You never study.”

Seeing the genuine concern on his roommate’s face, Kuroo sighed and admitted quietly, “I’m failing.”

The air hung heavy with this confession, a sad silence lingering between the two roommates. Oikawa found himself in a state of shock and worry for Kuroo, whose head remained lowered in defeat. At a loss for words, the pretty boy offered him an apologetic look and let his arm hang loose in Kuroo’s tense grip.

“I really don’t want to retake any of my classes.” Kuroo said with his head down, his hand tightening around Oikawa’s arm. “I know I did this to myself. I can only blame myself for digging my own grave. I just, I didn’t realize it would turn out this way. I was just having fun. Well, I thought I was.”

Oikawa was about to interject, but he kept quiet after seeing the distraught look in Kuroo’s eyes, the desperation and anxiety. It was a sight he had never seen before. He was slowly losing the feeling in his arm, but he didn’t complain. Understanding the severity of Kuroo’s situation, Oikawa stayed silent and listened to his woes.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk roommate to you. I know I always come home late and I’m drunk as balls and make you look out for me.” Kuroo continued, “I know I shouldn’t expect you to help me after all the shit I’ve put you through, but I don’t know who else to ask. You’re the first person I thought of.”

Oikawa paused. “Because I’m a ‘nerd’?”

“No, because…you care.” Kuroo didn’t say anything for a little while, his hand letting go of Oikawa and dropping to his side. “I hang out with a bunch of people and I know a bunch of people, but none of them give a rat’s ass about me when I’m actually in a pinch. But you’re always looking out for me, Tooru. You always leave me these little notes everywhere with stuff. You always remind me whenever I forget something in our room. You always sneak up an extra slice of cake for me from the dining hall, even if I’m not there. There’s no reason why I wouldn’t trust you. You’re my emergency contact.”

Kuroo didn’t expect an answer and pulled his quiet roommate into an embrace. Oikawa didn’t resist or struggle, instead just standing there and letting himself be hugged. Silently grateful, Kuroo appreciated the warmth and comfort that Oikawa provided, feeling him slowly bring his arms around his back in return. Relishing in the sweet scent of cinnamon from Oikawa’s hair, Kuroo squeezed him tighter and tenderly scattered kisses on the side of his head.

Tickled by the curls of Oikawa’s chestnut hair,  Kuroo felt a hopeful sensation bubble inside of him. His heart began to race, beating and hammering away in his chest. The loud heartbeats echoed in his ears.

“I’m sorry, Tooru.” Kuroo whispered, feeling Oikawa’s arms tighten around him. “Please help me.”

At the sound of Kuroo’s desperate plea, Oikawa let out a shaky sigh. “Fine.”

“Really? Thanks, Tooru!” Ecstatic about Oikawa’s approval, Kuroo instantly pulled away and held him by his shoulders, expecting to see the same enthusiasm on his face, only to see a mess of tears.

At that moment, Kuroo felt his heart plummet and shatter into a million pieces.

Seeing that tear-stained face felt like a punch in the gut. Something yanked painfully at his heartstrings. Overwrought with concern, Kuroo asked him, “Tooru? What’s wrong?”

Oikawa simply shook his head and said with a shaky, squeaky voice, “Nothing.”

Rivers were streaming down his cheeks.  Framed by lovely curls of chestnut hair, the rosiness of his cheeks burned aflame as tears slithered down them. His brown eyes were glossy underneath the teardrops, illuminating the gorgeous caramel color in them.  Those sweet doe eyes were flooded with giant globs of tears, his long eyelashes clinging to the droplets.

His denial did a terrible job of covering up.

“No, Tooru, look at me.” Kuroo held him firmly by the shoulders and tried to look him directly in the eyes. “Did I say something? Did I do something?”

Oikawa continued to shake his head and buried his face into Kuroo’s shoulder, admitting in a broken whisper, “There’s a reason why I did all those things.”

“What?”

Before he could elaborate, Oikawa suddenly burst into tears, hiccupping and choking on his sobs. Massive teardrops gathered at his long eyelashes. Blubbering and sniveling, he gasped helplessly whenever he tried to open his mouth. Although, he wasn’t noisy about it; he didn’t wail or bawl pathetically. Instead, he whimpered feebly to himself, as if he were desperate not to expose this vulnerable side of his, despairing because his weaknesses existed, miserable because he was defenseless. And perhaps that made his cries sound even more tragic.

Bewildered and thrown totally off guard by this display, Kuroo stood there in a stunned daze, watching Oikawa swipe at his eyes before pulling him back into an embrace. “What is it, Tooru? What’s wrong?”

Much to Oikawa’s chagrin, only incomprehensible sobs escaped his lips, shaking his head. As his caramel eyes shed more tears, his bottom lip quivered. He was a pitiful sight, mumbling incoherent noises into Kuroo’s shoulder and gulping in a desperate attempt to swallow the lump in his throat. It was upsetting. Kuroo tightened his grip around Oikawa’s trembling shoulders.

Instead of pestering him with more questions, Kuroo kept quiet and simply held him in his arms. He began to draw circles on Oikawa with his thumbs, feeling relieved the calmer he became. Once he stopped shaking, Kuroo pulled him away and looked him straight in the eyes.

Oikawa’s eyes were puffy and red, and again he couldn’t look Kuroo in the eyes and averted his own.

“Are you good now, Tooru? You done with the waterworks?” Kuroo asked suddenly. When Oikawa failed to answer, Kuroo raised his hands and held firmly onto that pretty face, squishing his tear-stained cheeks. “Will you tell me what the hell that was about?”

In response, the sheepish pretty boy blinked, stammered, and failed to form words. Embarrassed, he squeezed his eyes shut and refused to make eye contact, feeling the vast flames of red spread across his cheeks.

“Tetsu-chan…I-I thought you were really cool when we first met…I dunno, I liked you, and I really wanted you to like me. But then you turned into a drunk and sleazy bastard and I didn’t recognize you anymore, and you always came back late, and you always made fun of me and called me a nerd, and so, and so, and so I really missed the old you.” Oikawa babbled on, sniffling through most of the words so they sounded more like incoherent mumblings, trailing off half the time. “But then, even though you were always drunk and you always reeked of alcohol…I still liked you anyway, I dunno…I dunno why…even though I can’t stand the drunk version of you…”

“You wanted me to like you?”

The second he saw Oikawa nod in agreement, Kuroo immediately leaned in and showered Oikawa’s pretty face with a bombardment of kisses. Infatuated, he landed kisses on those flushed cheeks, on his forehead, on his bright red nose, on those furrowed eyebrows, on the corners of his tear-stained eyes. Smitten, he even brought Oikawa’s trembling hands up to his mouth and kissed them, the soft surface of Oikawa’s skin meeting his lips, kissing him on those slender fingers, on his palms, and on the back of his hands, like a debonair gentleman.

“W-what are you doing?!” Oikawa stuttered in a flurry of embarrassment, his eyes fluttering about.

“You said you wanted me to like you.” Kuroo said simply. “So I’m proving to you that I like you.”

By this time the sun had settled into the horizon, the sky above them a dim glow of twilight. Afraid of curious onlookers, Oikawa’s brown eyes darted around frantically, only to realize that the shopping district was sparse of people at this time. Even the cafe was closed. Everyone strolled back home arm in arm with their stylish bags and purchased belongings. The streets still buzzed with traffic, while bars and restaurants came to life with the oncoming wave of salarymen and people in business attire, celebrating after a hard day’s work.

One by one, Tokyo’s skyscrapers overhead lit up the dark sky, illuminated buildings twinkling away.

“Are you drunk?” Oikawa asked Kuroo, who smirked back.

“Nope.”

Oikawa pouted.

“I’m one-hundred and ten percent sober.” Kuroo grinned cheekily, wrapping his arms around Oikawa again, who grumbled bashfully. “I like you, Tooru.”

When Oikawa didn’t say anything, Kuroo continued. “Sometimes I’ll remember some of the stupid shit I say when I’m drunk, or people will tell me what I’ve said, and I’ve had people ask me about who ‘Tooru’ was, because I mentioned you a lot.” Kuroo casually began to sway, forcing their two embracing bodies to swing back and forth. “I apparently talk about you when I’m drunk. About how big of a nerd you are”  — Oikawa groaned — “and about how much I love you.”

Oikawa choked. “What?”

“It’s true. Girls have asked me about you. They think I have a girlfriend.” Kuroo laughed, a huge grin sitting on his lips. “They feel bad that Tooru has to look out for someone like me.”

“ _ You _ should feel bad.” Oikawa scoffed, and Kuroo couldn’t help but cackle.

“I’m sure you remember what happened that one night I came back to the dorm drunk.”

At first, Oikawa didn’t respond, but judging by the embarrassed blush engulfing his entire face, he remembered it clearly. Flustered and sheepish, Oikawa answered, “How can I not?”

Kuroo chuckled. “I read an article once about how the things that people say when they’re drunk is real. So whatever I said to you, it was real.”

It was quiet after that, but not uncomfortable. They admired the lingering silence between them and acknowledged it as a moment of quiet understanding, a moment of relief of some sort. Gleaming lights shined above them from the towering skyscrapers as nightfall cast over the city, the night lights their only source of illumination.

“Will you stop going out all the time?”

Kuroo looked curiously at his roommate. “What?”

“In exchange for my help.” Oikawa stated firmly. “You don’t have to stop going out completely, just less often.”

Kuroo chuckled and booped him on the nose. “You got it, nerd.”

And so they went back to their dorm room and studied. Kuroo almost ripped his hair out of frustration later that night from the intensity of their study session, but he was always soothed by Oikawa’s encouraging kisses and motivated by his incentives. Once those encouraging kisses became something more rewarding, Kuroo knew there was no way he would fail his classes now.

**Author's Note:**

> I will never let go of the oikuro college au it’s just never gonna happen it’s hopeless
> 
> (the long intro strikes again I’m sorry)
> 
> (also, I’ve never written anything so relatable before omfg…not the partying part, the worrying about grades part, oof…it hits hard…university is hard guys)
> 
> **THIS IS LONG AF!!!!!!!! IT’S SO LONG!!!!!!!!!! WTF
> 
> ✦ [Tumblr](http://jhoca.tumblr.com/)  
> ✦ [Tumblr (art blog)](http://jhoca-art.tumblr.com/)  
> ✦ [Tumblr (NSFW)](http://jhoca-nsfw.tumblr.com/)  
> ✦ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jhocaaaa)  
> ✦ [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6wRaRPE-GDaIbwj44pc7eg)


End file.
